P is for Plausible Deniability
Chapter 2
Mahoney huffed a short breath when he
noticed who was walking towards the precinct’s front desk. Not that he really
disliked Foggy. They were more like – what did his niece call it? – frenemies.
He enjoyed getting the better of his childhood rival and, really, Foggy wasn’t
that bad for a defense attorney. At least he generally kept his practice to
those who actually needed to be defended. Mahoney could respect that.
Murdock, on the other hand, was still pretty much an unknown. A competent lawyer
from what Mahoney had heard - and hell against a punching bag - but Mahoney had
little interaction with him outside of the job.
“Something I can do for you, gentlemen?” Mahoney asked as the duo reached the
front desk. Murdock released his hold on Foggy’s arm and gripped his white cane
with both hands when they stopped.
“We are representing Antoine Ferguson, who is currently in one of your holding
cells,” Foggy answered with a grin. “We’d like to talk to him, if it’s not too
much trouble.”
Probably even if it was too much trouble, but Foggy was normally affable even
when he didn’t need to be. Murdock, on the other hand, had little patience with
people who failed to meet his attorney-given rights – at least that was the word
around the precinct. Mahoney hadn’t seen evidence of that yet, but then he
hadn’t had reason to either.
“I’ll have him brought up,” Mahoney replied. He turned to one of the rookies
that was riding the desk due to an injury and sent him after the attorneys’
client.
“By the way, I have something for Bess at the office if you want to come by and
pick it up,” Foggie said. “Matt wouldn’t let me bring it with me.”
“I pointed out that people might start talking if he kept bringing you packages,
even if they were for your mom,” Murdock said softly.
“Appreciate that,” Mahoney said dryly. “It’s bad enough that vigilantes are
sending criminals to me directly. Last thing I need is for anyone to start
thinking I actually get along with defense attorneys.”
“Daredevil is sending you criminals?” Foggy asked, sounding startled. He glanced
at Murdock who, of course, didn’t notice. “How does that work? Does he gift wrap
them too? Maybe a big bow?”
Mahoney snorted. “You remember Detective Hoffman? Told him to turn himself in…
to me, by name. Like I’m the only honest cop in the precinct.”
“That may have been our fault,” Murdock replied. “When we were working with Ben
Urich, Foggie may have mentioned that we knew at least one cop we could trust.
Ben admitted that he’d talked to Daredevil a few times. That may be how he got
your name.”
“Thanks for that,” Mahoney replied again, though he was actually pleased that
Foggie hadn’t doubted him, even when they’d suspected that half the precinct was
in Fisk’s pocket. Not that he was going to admit that to Foggie. “Hoffman was
just the beginning. I now have three muggers, five purse snatchers and a couple
of robbers to my arrest record, all thanks to that idiot with the horns.”
“I know, they’re ridiculous, aren’t they?” Foggie exclaimed with another
sidelong look at Murdock. “I mean, it was bad enough when they just called him
‘The Devil’. He had to go and bring the image to life. Way overboard, in my
opinion.”
“Yeah, because the horns are what the cops are really worried about,” Mahoney
replied sarcastically. He suspected that there was some difference of opinion
between the partners about Hell’s Kitchen’s resident, illegal crime-fighter, but
Murdock chose to keep quiet on the subject. When Mahoney glanced his way, he
noticed that Murdock was rubbing his cheek underneath his glasses. He could just
see the edges of what looked like a black eye before the glasses dropped back in
place.
“That’s some shiner, Murdock. You let your guard down again?” Mahoney asked.
“You know, your opponent isn’t going to show any mercy. You’ve got to keep your
hands up.”
“What? What opponent?” Mahoney was fairly sure that Foggie actually squeaked in
surprise. Maybe Murdock hadn’t mention his nocturnal boxing practice. “There’s
no opponent, is there, Matt?”
“He means my boxing practice at Fogwell’s,” Matt replied calmly. He explained
about the call that Mahoney had investigated. “It’s nothing, Sergeant. Just an
accident.”
“Yeah, accident,” Foggie echoed and then added, “Nearly ran over by one of those
bicycle messengers, wasn’t that it? Knocked you into a… a light pole, right?”
Murdock hummed what Mahoney took as affirmation, but he knew that Foggy was
lying. He had no idea why Foggie would bother though. It was just a black eye.
Not like neither of them had gotten one before.
“Those guys ride like they’re on crack,” Mahoney said. “You wouldn’t believe how
many complaints we get about them every week.”
Foggie relaxed a bit when it looked like Mahoney had bought his lie.
“Like I said, it was just a freak accident. I doubt they meant to knock anyone
over,” Murdock said.
“Hey, Sergeant, Ferguson is in room 3,” the rookie that Mahoney had sent on the
attorney’s errand called out.
“Guess that’s us,” Foggie said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them as
if in anticipation. To Mahoney, it looked like he was overly relieved that the
conversation was cut short.
Murdock inclined his head in Mahoney’s direction. “Thanks for the assistance,
Sergeant.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Foggie added. He hustled his partner in the direction of the
interrogation room without waiting for a response. He was a little too eager to
get away from what was obviously an uneasy conversation.
Foggie was definitely hiding something. Something that Mahoney was growing more
curious about the further away the partners walked. Mahoney might not be able to
get to the bottom of this particular mystery, but it might not be a bad idea to
keep an eye on those two.
Something wasn’t quite right in the world of ‘Nelson and Murdock’.
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